The Home

THIRTY-SIX

Starlene wanted a shower to blast the creepy feeling from her skin, but she couldn't face the bathroom, no matter what Randy said she hadn't seen. No matter that ghosts didn't exist and that only God had the ability to in s pire visions. God's visions were fire and thunder, not feverish thugs and bloody corpses. She went into the little bedroom she shared with Marie. Due to their rotating shifts, the two of them rarely stayed here at the same time. They both had places offsite, so the room was only sparsely decorated and didn't reflect their true personalities.

Starlene picked up a book, something thick and dull by the Southern novelist Jefferson Spence. She couldn't concentrate on the meandering sentences, and after the author's second clumsy allusion to snowy fields of cotton, she closed the book and looked out the window.

A soft mist hung over the lake. She half expected to see the old man in the gown drift up from the water. Clouds had begun to gather over the mountains, pushed by a slow wind The shadows of clouds crawled across the slopes, resembling great black beasts. The air was heavy with moisture.

A knock at the door caused her to drop the novel. It barely missed crushing her toe. She paused in the hall, making sure the knock hadn't come from the bathroom. No, it was at the front door.

Bondurant nodded at her when she opened the door, then staggered into the room before she could ask what he wanted. His face was blanched and his hands trembled. He adjusted his glasses on his long nose and licked his lips.

"You look terrible," she said.

"Like I've seen a ghost?"

"Worse. Like maybe a mirror."

"Can I sit down?"

"That depends. Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

He shrugged and looked behind him, then peered at the corners of the ceiling. "Have to be careful. You never know who's listening."

"Are you looking for invisible people?"

"Bugs."

"We sprayed for those last month, remember?"

"I'm not talking about those kind of bugs. I'm talking electronic bugs." Bondurant coughed, and the odor of liquor filled the room. Purple welts beneath his eyes gave him the appearance of a punch-drunk insomniac. Starlene didn't know how much faith she could put in anything he said.

"Got anything to drink?" he asked, checking out the countertops in the kitchenette.

"Aren't you on duty?"

Bondurant sighed and sat on the edge of an armchair. He didn't remove his coat. "What happened when Kracowski zapped you this morning?"

"You know. You were there."

He waved one hand in the air. "I saw him press some buttons and flip switches. I saw you in Thirteen. I saw you gasp and scream and stop breathing. And then it was over. But I want to know what happened."

"Mr. Bondurant, I've questioned that treatment ever since I started working here. Are you telling me you're just now starting to have some doubts?"

"What did you see?" He leaned forward his face contorted and she backed away and stood by the door. He didn't rise from the chair, or she might have fled. "You're in on it, too, aren't you?" he said.

"In on what?"

"The whole thing. I thought you were a Christian."

"I am a Christian. And I have no idea what you're talking about."

"They're meddling in God's domain. Only God can draw the line between the living and the dead." He talked faster, spittle flying from his mouth. "Only God says who gets into heaven and who must walk through the fires of hell. So why is God in His almighty wisdom, letting that heathen freak bring back the spirits of those who have already faced the Judgment?"

"Look, a lot of weird stuff is happening around here, but I don't think you need to drag God into this. Put the blame where it belongs."

"That's the whole problem. They've pushed God out of everything. The Supreme Court has locked Him out of the schools, the government pushes for a United Nations that only serves atheists, and now they've taken over Wendover, where I've turned so many lost souls toward the light of our Lord." He pounded a fist against the padded chair.

"You've seen them, too. Not just the Miracle Woman, but the others."

Bondurant's lips moved but no words came out. Color returned to his face, a shade of deep crimson that was less alarming than the previous gray.

"It's all wrong," he said.

Something fell to the floor in the bathroom.

"That's one of them now," she said. "What happened to Deke?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me."

"Please, Miss Rogers. Don't make me-"

"Something's in the tub." A scratching had arisen in the bathroom, echoing off the ceramic tiles. Water, or some other liquid, dripped in an uneven rhythm.

"I didn't let them in," Bondurant said. "They said nobody would get hurt. They said they'd only be here for a year or so, then they'd go away and Wendover would have all the funding it needed."

"Who are they?"

Bondurant shrugged, then slumped, defeated. The stirrings in the bathroom grew louder.

Starlene opened the front door and looked at the cold stone hulk of Wendover across the grass. "We have to get the kids out."

"You don't understand." Bondurant fidgeted with his rumpled tie. "Nobody gets out. Not anymore."

"You can sit here and wait for whatever happens next if you want. Me, I'm going to help the children I pledged to serve."

Bondurant laughed, drowning out the moist noises from the tub. "Little Miss Do-Gooder. You and all the other people who think they can save the world through kindness. There's only one way to save the world, and that's by hammering the misfits into shape. You can't love these brats into being productive members of society. All you can do is put the fear of God in them, by force, and let them burn in hell if they don't choose the right path."

"Tell that to the thing in the bathroom." Starlene left the cabin, slamming the door behind her, and walked toward the small gravel lot that was tucked behind the trees. She could fit maybe fifteen kids in the bed of her pickup, then come back for the rest. She didn't have a plan yet. She'd probably have to drop them off at the police station. Randy would help her. She had to find Randy.

Bondurant called to her from the cabin door. "Don't leave me, Miss Rogers."

She didn't turn around. The wind picked up, and more clouds had gathered in the sky. The surrounding forest was alive with movement. Bondurant shouted something else but she couldn't hear it.

Starlene reached her truck and locked herself inside, then started the engine. She put the truck in gear and glanced in the rear view mirror. She gasped and yanked her foot from the clutch so fast the engine died.

She turned around. Nothing in the bed of the pickup.

Not now. But, moments before, Freeman had stood there, clutching the same red wedge of razor that Deke had held in the bathroom. She shivered restarted the engine, and drove to the main building.